The Rival and the Fanboy
by strangertrack
Summary: The team thinks that Mizuki needs to get over his Fuji-obsession. Maybe Jiroh can provide the right distraction? Fluff.


**The Rival and the Fanboy**

--

It was to everyone's surprise that Akazawa cracked first.

After all, the short-tempered captain of the St. Rudolph tennis team was indulgent and patient when it came to all things Mizuki. Whipped, some would say.

But enough was enough.

"Shut up!" Akazawa growled, hurling his racket to the ground with a loud clatter. "Just shut up about that damn Fuji Syusuke!"

Mizuki blinked in surprise, hand frozen in mid-twirl of hair. He backed up a few steps as Akazawa approached him, gaze darting around to the other regulars for help. Or at least an explanation.

"We're all sick of hearing you obsess over him. Just get over it," Akazawa voiced aloud the collective opinion of his team. Yes, _his_ team. No matter what Mizuki thought, _Akazawa_ was the captain, and he was taking charge right now.

Kaneda's enthusiastic clapping slowed to a halt when Mizuki shot the second year a glare that promised tripled training menus and an end to the Akazawa-Kaneda doubles lineup.

"Yuuta-kun, back me up here," Mizuki turned to the second year for help. "You know what it's like to want to beat your brother."

Yuuta took a sudden fascination in his shoes. "Um... I don't know, Mizuki-san," he mumbled uncomfortably. "I'm kind of over it. I'd rather beat Echizen or maybe Tezuka-san."

"Besides, your obsession with him is on a whole other level," Atsushi said. "It's almost like..."

"...like you're in love with him da ne," Yanagisawa bluntly said what the rest were thinking but dared not utter.

"I am not," Mizuki denied, sounding insulted.

But the floodgates had opened.

"But you talk about him ALL THE TIME-"

"And you followed him around FOUR TIMES last week-"

"You wrote his name all over your notebook. Don't try to deny it, I SAW it."

"You asked me to bring you back his used gym clothes," Yuuta said in disgust.

"EWWW."

"In short, you're being creepier than your usual self when it comes to Fuji."

Mizuki sighed, feeling betrayed. "I didn't know you all felt this way."

"WE DO."

Akazawa put a hand comfortingly on Mizuki's shoulder. "I'm not saying that we don't want to support you-"

"WE DON'T."

"-but it'd be better if you cut down on the Fuji-talk before we're forced to murder you."

"YEAH."

"Very well," Mizuki said with a flounce. "There are plenty of other people who will appreciate my astute observations on Fuji-kun... who is my destined rival and definitely nothing else."

He ignored the eye-rolls and decided to triple the training menu for everyone. They obviously had too much time on their hands.

--

Mizuki thought that Yuuta would be more receptive to a conversation about his brother once separated from the team. He was wrong. "Sorry, Mizuki-san. I don't want to think about aniki any more than I have to," Yuuta explained, edging away.

His other teammates, being far less skilled than himself, had never had the opportunity to play against Fuji. They couldn't possibly understand why Fuji had left such a lasting impression. But surely, Fuji's teammates would.

--

Inui agreed about the mutual benefits of collaborating his data with Mizuki. However, they got into an argument when it came to Fuji's personal life.

"That data is definitely wrong," Mizuki declared, crossing his arms.

Inui adjusted his glasses. "Oh?" he said, in a tone that implied that Mizuki was being an idiot.

"First of all, I don't believe that Fuji Syusuke would be dating someone as plain as Kawamura-kun. He can do _way_ better than that," Mizuki huffed. After all, Fuji had blown _him_ off, and Mizuki was a hundred times better looking. Why, choosing someone like Kawamura over him was like choosing dirt pie over vichyssoise.

"Second of all, I refuse to believe he's a willing bottom," Mizuki continued his rant. "His personality screams sadistic top!"

"Nevertheless, the data says-"

"Your data is obviously flawed," Mizuki sniffed.

"Data doesn't lie," Inui stated, offended that Mizuki considered himself the big expert on _Inui's_ teammate. Mizuki had never had the misfortune of walking into a locker scene involving burning rackets and a giggling tensai.

"Fuji-kun is definitely the 'S' and has a whole harem of the prettiest boys as his 'M's," Mizuki hypothesized, with a firm nod. He noted absently to himself that the S and M could stand for Syusuke and Mizuki. Not that Mizuki was a masochist or anything like that! But the dataman in him couldn't help but notice the coincidence and probe it for meaning.

"Please stop passing off your personal fantasies as facts," Inui suggested. Fuji had his quirks, but he wasn't the crazy sadistic freak Mizuki was making him out to be. "And for God's sake, stop calling yourself a data player. You're giving the rest of us a bad name."

That was the end of that potential friendship.

--

"Mada mada da ne." The insufferable freshman was no help. The Prince of Tennis had long outgrown the tensai and had set his sights on the other royalty of the junior high tennis circuit. Like the King, Atobe Keigo, and the Emperor, Sanada Genichiro.

Hm... hadn't Fuji traumatized one of the Rikkai members? Maybe he could bond with this Kirihara Akaya.

--

The rumors were ridiculous. He was SO much better looking than Kirihara. Mizuki failed to see any resemblance at all.

The demon-like boy was sort of intimidating, if only because pink-eye was contagious. But his brash exterior crumbled at the mere mention of Fuji's name.

"Ahhh! I'm sorry!! Please forgive me!!" Kirihara screamed and threw his arms in front of his face.

"Hey, who made Akaya cry?"

Mizuki found himself surrounded by a team of glaring, overprotective boys, boys who were significantly bigger and more muscular than him.

"What? I just wanted to talk to him about Fuji Syusuke," Mizuki said defensively.

"FUJI!" Kirihara shrieked, then ran behind a blue-haired boy whose effeminate looks could rival Mizuki's.

Mizuki raised an eyebrow at the extreme reaction and wondered if Fuji had let him off lightly. He felt conflicted by the thought.

"That name is taboo around here," the bespectacled boy calmly informed him.

"Now leave. You're interrupting practice," the scary looking boy with the cap demanded, completely unmoved by Mizuki's most appealing "everybody totally wants me" look.

Mizuki didn't need to be told twice.

--

Jiroh was having a nice dream about Marui-kun. They were playing tennis on a court of fluffy clouds. Marui-kun was winning, of course, but Jiroh didn't mind.

"Sugoi!!" Jiroh cheered as the ball rolled sideways on the net and dropped into his side of the court. "You're so amazing, Marui-kun!"

_-pop-_

"Be awed by my genius-like skills." Marui-kun posed heroically.

Jiroh bounced over the net and tackled Marui-kun enthusiastically. The two fell over into the soft clouds and rolled around, ending with Jiroh on top.

"You look so yummy, Marui-kun!" Jiroh enthused, burying his head in the other's neck and inhaling the sweet scent of something fruity. Jiroh took a lick.

Amazing! Marui-kun tasted like cherry!

Jiroh took another lick, trailing his tongue across the smooth white neck and ending with a little bite.

"Ouch!"

"Mmm... Marui-kun," Jiroh murmured, gnawing at the juncture between his idol's neck and shoulder.

"Hey, cut it out. That tickles."

That was strange. This was usually the part where Marui-kun turned into a gingerbread man with gumdrop eyes and red licorice hair, and Jiroh ate him up before coming to the sad realization that he could no longer play tennis with Marui-kun. At least, not until the next nap.

"Hey, I said, cut it out!"

The clouds puffed away as Jiroh blearily opened his eyes. The boy beneath him had tousled hair, but it was dark blue-black rather than red. His shirt, which had a familiar-looking crest on it but which was definitely not like the one Marui-kun wore, was rumpled, the top few buttons undone. Through the damp collar, Jiroh could see teeth marks marring the white skin.

"Um..."

"I know I'm irresistible, but that's no excuse to randomly attack me," Mizuki huffed.

"Where's Marui-kun?" Jiroh asked, still a little disoriented.

Mizuki pushed Jiroh off and sat up. "I can't believe my luck today," he complained bitterly, adjusting his clothes and brushing bits of grass off his shirt. "Not only does my team completely shun me and I get pawed at by a rival player, I still can't find anyone to talk to about Fuji-kun."

"Fuji? FUJI SYUSUKE?!"

Mizuki jumped about five feet in the air.

"FUJI IS AWESOME!" Jiroh tackled Mizuki again in his excitement.

"Nfu, well, he is my destined rival, after all."

"Wow, seriously?" Jiroh looked impressed as he made himself comfortable, settling his head on Mizuki's chest and staring up at the sky. "I can't touch him at all! You must be pretty awesome yourself."

"Of course," Mizuki said with his usual lack of modesty. He twined his hand in the other boy's hair, just to see if it felt as soft as it looked. It felt slightly rough but fluffy. Like the wool throw blanket he pulled out every winter to keep his feet warm.

"Alas, my teammates don't understand. They told me to stop obsessing over him. As if I obsess," Mizuki huffed.

"I know what you mean," Jiroh sympathized. "My teammates are the same way when I talk about Marui-kun. But I can't help but get excited about Marui-kun! He's so super awesome! Even more than Fuji!"

Mizuki withdrew his hand, much to Jiroh disappointment. The petting had felt really nice.

"Oh really," Mizuki frowned. Who did this boy think he was, suggesting that there was a better rival than the one Mizuki had selected himself? "I highly doubt that."

"It's true! He does the coolest volleys and there's this one move he does, the techuu ate, where the ball hits the net post... kyaa!"

Annoyed, Mizuki pushed Jiroh off of him once more and sat up.

"Well Fuji-kun has the triple counters and the disappearing serve," Mizuki countered, "AND he can control the wind." Mizuki was convinced of the last statement no matter what seemingly plausible explanation Inui gave for the wind starting up RIGHT ON CUE at the beginning of Fuji's matches.

Jiroh sat up as well. "Marui-kun can chew gum and play tennis at the same time," he declared.

"Like that takes real talent," Mizuki said snippily.

"It does! I tried to copy him but ended up accidentally swallowing and choking." Jiroh looked downcast at the memory. "I thought my ribs would be crushed when Kabaji performed the Heimlich manuever."

He looked so sad that Mizuki couldn't help ruffling his hair again.

Jiroh brightened. "Ne, ne. What special moves do you have?" he asked eagerly.

"Um... well," Mizuki cleared his throat. "There's the, uh... scenario tennis."

"Oh? What's that?" Jiroh asked eagerly.

"I predict the outcome of matches based on the data I collect on the players beforehand."

"Oh." Jiroh flopped back down, as if someone had hit the off switch on his energy.

Mizuki bristled. Sure, maybe his scenarios weren't as flashy as, say, the Tezuka Zone or Kikumaru's acrobatics, but it was impressive in its own way!

"It has its uses outside of tennis as well," Mizuki insisted, now determined to have the other boy see his greatness. He was just as good as Fuji! Or this Marui, whoever he was! He dared anyone to suggest otherwise.

"Hm, okay," Jiroh said with disinterest, closing his eyes. He wondered if Rikkai's practice would be over soon. He wanted to get a glimpse of Marui-kun before heading back.

Suddenly, he felt something pressing against his lips, warm and wet and cherry-flavored. It tasted better than dream!Marui-kun ever did, maybe because it felt so _real_.

Jiroh bolted back up once the kiss ended, eyes wide.

"According to my scenario, you'll now be thinking of me 1.5 times more than you think of Marui-kun or Fuji-kun combined," Mizuki chuckled, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.

"That was REALLY FREAKIN' AWESOME!" Jiroh fanboyed. "I want to see it again!"

"Nfu, gladly."

--

end

--

A/N: This turned out to be more Sweet Pair and S&M Pair than Mizuki/Jiroh. Ah well. Comments appreciated!

--

June 15, 2008


End file.
